It was not in the quiet moments
that alone-ness snuck in on webbed feet creeping to swallow her whole. Oh no. It was in between boisterous bouts of crowded laughter, leg-slappin' and shared memories that never included her. That was when her solitary existence grew three-fold. She often felt old, withered and wasted when stories were served around her...just out of reach. If they only knew how much she had to offer. How much love was carried in her coffers. If they gave a minute to get to know her, maybe they'd see her wings. Maybe they'd hear the friendship of acceptance when she sings. But, her measly chips don't compare to the comfort of a shared history. And opening doors to an unknown future is far too scary. So, she just listens to the echoes of their laughter as they scatter down the hallway.
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AuthorMolly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw. Categories |